


Silver And Gold

by camichats



Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [166]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26146741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: James has a step-family that hates him, a ball he wants to go to, and someone with enough magic that needs a favour to do a trade with him.
Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter
Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [166]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/752925
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Silver And Gold

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: “Hey! love your blog. Could you do a cinderella au maybe?? Thanks” 
> 
> Writing a cinderella AU... for two men... not easy. I took some creative license.

James had had a good life up until his parents died. First his mum had died, and it was a couple years before his dad remarried. He didn't begrudge him for it. Mum had been kind, but she was gone and he deserved to be happy. His stepmother was nice enough up until Dad died, and then it was like living in hell on Earth. Apparently the nice stepmother thing had been an act. His stepsisters had always been kind of bitches, but now it was worse. They didn't have any appearances to keep up, and the only way James could stay happy was by avoiding them. 

So James avoided his step family whenever he could because if they saw him, they'd remember that he existed. If they remembered that he existed, they would do one of two things. 1. Mock him or 2. Give him a chore to do since they'd fired most of the staff when his father died and subsequently decided that James would do all of it. Some years after his father's death, they'd sold the estate despite James's protests-- it was a family home, one the Potter's had lived at for several generations-- and moved to a smaller home. Much smaller. Small enough that it wasn't completely ludicrous to expect for James to be able to take care of its upkeep. 

If he were younger, or perhaps his parents still lived, he wouldn't have hesitated in tossing them out on their arses, or making them so unhappy that they would leave of their own free will. But his parents _were_ dead and he _was_ older now. Old enough and lonely enough that he didn't fancy trying to make an entirely new life for himself with no friends. This was his life now, and he didn't plan on doing much to change that. 

Until, of course, there was an event that changed his life-- not that he ever could have predicted it. 

James was in charge of picking up and handling the post. That meant he was the first one to see the royal invitation. There was a ball. One being held at the palace that invited all people of marrying age in the kingdom to see the prince and hair apparent for the throne so that he might choose someone to marry. James had the vicious urge to throw the invitation away. His step-sisters would be primping and preening every day until the ball finished, and _he_ was going to have to deal with it. Not just their horrid attitudes, but their hair and makeup and dresses. When both of them failed to wed the prince, James was sure they would blame him instead of their own lack of good looks or will. 

He _would_ have thrown it away too, if it weren't for the knowledge that they'd find out about the ball from some other source and then he'd be in deep shite. No. Better to give it to them now and bear the next month as well as he could. 

Easier said than done. 

* * *

James blinked. "What do you mean?" 

"Have you gone deaf while I was in the market today?" Step-mother asked, none too kindly. "You will not be accompanying us to the ball. I am more than capable to looking after my daughters without your interference. Besides, you would not make the impression we are hoping to make." 

"You're delusional if you think the prince is going to look twice at either of those hags." It would've been smarter if he kept his mouth shut, he knew, but he'd been looking forward to going. To seeing people again. 

* * *

"So... what are you?" James asked. "Fairy? Witch?" 

"Something like that," the man who had introduced himself as Remus said. 

"Why are you helping me?" 

"I'm not exactly filled with goodwill. I'm doing you a favour so you'll do me a favour." 

"I don't have much," James said with a wry twist of his mouth. 

"It's something you are plenty capable of doing. All I need is for you to deliver a message to Prince Sirius for me. Maybe a few messages, if you manage to give the first one and get one in return." 

"Why can't you do it yourself?" James wanted to immediately accept. Not only was Remus offering to get him into the ball, but he was offering to give him appropriate clothes and fix him up for it-- with a little magic, of course. He'd be able to go the party of the decade without any worries, able to just enjoy himself for a few days. 

Remus's nose twitched. "His parents aren't very fond of me." He gestured to the scars on his face and added, "They've made it quite clear over the years. So long as both of them are living, I can't step foot on the castle grounds, and Sirius is watched too carefully to get out to meet me. So? Do we have an agreement?" 

"Why not," James muttered. It's not like he had much to lose if this was a set-up. Besides that, what would anyone stand to gain from this? James was at the bottom of the pecking order these days. 

* * *

James hadn't looked this good in... well, years. After his mother died, he hadn't had much cause to dress up for events because he was no longer attending them. He'd looked nice for his father's marriage, but he'd gotten bigger since then. All the housework had made his shoulders broad enough that he wouldn't have fit in his old clothes anyways. 

The clothes Remus had conjured for him were gold. In another kingdom, that might have gotten him into trouble-- someone not royal wearing the colour that was usually reserved only for them-- but the Black family kept silver as their royal colour. James didn't think much of it until the Prince saw James out of the corner of his eye and immediately started working his way over. Was gold a signal colour for Remus and the Prince, and Remus had forgotten to tell him? That would certainly explain Remus's certainty that James would be able to pass along the message. 

James had that idea firmly in mind when the Prince got up close to him, a smirk making him appear even more handsome. Bloody hell, people who were born in royal families should _not_ be allowed to be that gorgeous. There should be a rule that you can either be born into the most powerful family, _or_ you can be the most handsome man on the planet. Being allowed to do both was going to make James's heart stop before he had a chance to really enjoy the ball. 

"Hello," the Prince said, smirk widening into a smile. "I'm Sirius." 

James was staring. He knew that he should say something, but he couldn't unstick his tongue from the top of his mouth. 

"This is the part where you tell me your name." 

"James. I'm er, James." 

"Nice to meet you James." Sirius glanced around them. "Are you here as an escort?" 

James snorted. He'd absolutely be murdered if his step-family discovered that not only was he here, but he was talking to the Prince. "Not as such, no." 

"Dance with me." 

"Aren't you supposed to ask, not order?" 

"Well you're not here to escort someone, which means you're here for me. If you're here for me, why would I bother to ask when the answer is going to be a yes?" 

"A fair point, if a touch unoriginal." 

"Unoriginal?" the Prince repeated, raising an eyebrow. He was still smiling though, so he wasn't offended. "I would like to think that I maintain most of my originality by not asking if you wanted to dance with me." 

"Ah, I guess that means I have to dance with you." 

The Prince's smile widened. "Quite." He offered his hand, and James let himself get pulled onto the dance floor. 

It had been a while since he'd been the center of attention, and he found that he still remembered how to deal with it. A hint of a smile as his resting his face, and he didn't make eye contact with anyone without making it seem like he was _avoiding_ looking. That part was easy. The less easy part was pretending like he wasn't as effected by the Prince's presence as he was. It was one thing to meet him, smile at him, and exchange a few words. James had expected all of that as a matter of course when delivering the letter-- which he hadn't forgotten about, but he was going to wait for a time when less people were staring-- but now his hand was in the Prince's, and he had an arm wrapped around his waist. 

He wasn't pressed all against him so much as to be improper, but it was enough that James could feel the heat radiating from him. Their faces were close enough that he could see the flutter of dark eyelashes when the Prince blinked, could feel his breath, and see the light sheen of sweat across his brow. 

"So, James. What brings you to this disaster of a ball?" 

"Doesn't seem so disastrous to me." 

"That's because you're not the one everyone's groping. Not that you're not worthy of it," the Prince said with a wink. 

"You're the one that approached me, so I hope you don't consider this to be another unwanted grope," James said. The only thing worse than getting out of this party without having a good time, would be if he had a horrible time. If the Prince hated him after this, that would be... well, another disappointment to add to his life. One he certainly did not need. "And if you didn't want this ball, why are you holding it?" 

"My _parents_ are holding it." 

"Ah. Well thank you for the dance all the same." 

"Don't go running off," the Prince said, arm tightening a fraction like he thought James was going to run for the hill. "You're the first decent person I've met all night." 

"Yes, with all that talking we've done." 

The Prince shrugged. "You're fit, as well. I won't say that had nothing to do with my decision. Mostly though, I liked your clothes. It takes stones to wear a traditionally royal colour to an event like this." 

"I can't say I had much to do with it." 

"Your parents give you as hard a time as mine?" 

"Not my parents, no. A friend of yours, actually. Bugger didn't even ask first. Personally, I would've gone with red." 

"Red's a good colour, if it doesn't make you look pale as a bloody ghost, that is. Who is this friend we seem to have in common?" 

There was a careful lightness to the Prince's words. He knew who James was going to say, but he wasn't going to out himself first. "Didn't catch a name," James lied. A description of Remus would get him in less trouble than saying his name. There wasn't any plausible deniability if he said the name. "Pleasant disposition. Had a few scars on his face." 

The Prince's arm tightened again, reflexively. "How is he?" he asked quietly. 

"He looked alright when I saw him. It's not like we're mates. He did me a favour, so I'm doing him one. I've got a letter for you from him." 

"Too many people watching right now." 

"I've noticed." 

The Prince hummed. "I suppose we should enjoy the rest of this dance, then." 

James hadn't been sure he would remember all the steps, but not once for the rest of the song did he step on the Prince's toes or turn the wrong direction. 

The Prince left him with a kiss on the cheek and a muttered, "I'll find you later, don't leave." 

* * *

"Did he get the letter?" Remus asked, and James nodded. 

He was out of his fancy clothes, but the confidence it had given him lingered. He used to be like this all the time. It used to be that he wouldn't have let his step-family push him around like they did, but he'd been blind with grief and done nothing. "Thanks for the clothes. I had fun." 

Remus glanced at him. "Aren't you going again tonight?" 

James shrugged. "One night was fun, but it's not as if I'm going to the ball for the reason everyone else is." 

"So? You wanted to enjoy yourself. The ball lasts for two more nights, and you have the suit for it. Besides, if I know Sirius, he'll send something in return. If you're not there, I'll have no one to retrieve it for me." 

It didn't take much convincing. 

* * *

The second night of the ball, the Prince greeted him with a bright smile. He slid a return letter to James at the beginning of the night, but he came back to keep dancing with him. Could James read into that? Could he expect that it meant something other than James was the point of contact between the Prince and Remus? 

The Prince, who kept coming to him dances and smiling like the was the damn sun of his life. The Prince, who kept telling James that he should call him Sirius instead of Your Majesty. The Prince, who at the end of the night, pressed a kiss to James's cheek that caught the corner of his mouth-- and not on accident. "You're coming back tomorrow night, yes?" 

"Not going to order it?" James joked to hide his nerves. 

"Haven't you heard the story? If you let something go and it returns to you, you get to keep it." The way Sirius kissed the back of his hand after saying it was innocent; the look he gave James as he did it was not. "I hope to see you again, James." 

James swallowed, said a perfunctory goodbye, and practically fled the ball. 

What was he doing? This was a favour for Remus. He was passing a few messages between two friends who couldn't see each other in person. That's it. 

* * *

"Are you going back tonight?" Remus asked, his gaze far too perceptive. 

"Not unless you have a return letter you need for me to pass." 

"I don't." 

James's shoulders sagged without him meaning for it to happen. 

"If you want an excuse, I could always manufacture one." 

James glared at him, but it had no effect. Remus calmly raised an eyebrow and held that expression until James cracked. "He acted like he wanted to see me." 

"And this is... bad?" 

"No, but Sirius said that he didn't like the ball. And then he goes and asks for me to come back." 

Remus didn't respond immediately, taking the time to choose his words carefully. "In my experience, Sirius doesn't ask for things he does not want. If he asked for you to come back, I believe that he means it in the same way you want it to mean. Whether or not you decide to go though," Remus said, turning his attention to the book he'd been reading when James came by, "do remember that the magic runs out after midnight. Like everything else in this world, it has a time limit." There was the weight of a world in what he wasn't saying, and it was impossible for James to miss it. 

* * *

"But... you came back," Sirius said, sounding crushed. His eyes were wide and uncomprehending. He still had a firm hand in James's jacket sleeve, the only place he'd been able to catch when James tried to run. 

James swallowed thickly. "I wanted to see you again." 

"Then _stay_." 

James shook his head. Remus's magic did a bit more than conjure the suit he was wearing; it had gotten rid of the cuts and burns on his hands and made him look presentable for high society in a way he hadn't been for years. He didn't want Sirius to see him like that. Sirius was... he was amazing. Too high up for James to be able to touch. Like a cloud in the sky, no matter how close it looked, he was too far away for James to hold and make his. 

"James no, please-" 

"I can't. I can't-" he shook his head again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't try only for it to fail or for Sirius's parents to decide that he wasn't a suitable match and be met with the same curse that had been laid on Remus. James wrenched his arm free, losing a button to Sirius's fingers, and he ran. He started running, and he didn't stop until after the spell ended, leaving him in his usual raggedy wardrobe. 

* * *

James opened the door and froze. How was Sirius- but no, that wasn't Sirius. James peered at him and decided that this must be another member of the royal family. Not old enough to be the King or Queen, but he was close enough in looks that he was definitely related to Sirius. 

"Can I help you?" he asked. 

Wordlessly, he held up the button that had been attached to James's jacket. "Magic is funny. Had it still been attached to the rest of the clothes, it would've vanished, but separated like that, it could be traced back to you. I'm Regulus, Sirius's brother." Regulus didn't have the same casualness to his posture that Sirius had had. He held himself a touch stiffly, like he was paying attention to a tutor instead of confronting someone who was basically a peasant. "He misses you rather terribly, you know. Won't shut up about it, as a matter of fact. Our parents told him that he had to choose someone to marry like they agreed, and he says that he did choose. However, since you refused to stay and went missing, they are at a stalemate." 

James swallowed. "That's not my problem," he said quietly. 

"Perhaps not," Regulus said in a way that meant he did _not_ agree with James, "but it most certainly is my problem and I have no patience. You're coming with me." 

"That's kidnapping." 

"Not when you're a prince." 

"Do you really think you could force me?" James asked. He'd rejected Sirius once, and that was all he had the strength for. If he saw him again, he wouldn't be able to say no a second time. 

"I don't believe you're going to make it that big a problem for me. You see, you care for Sirius, whether you want to admit it or not. So when I say that if you don't come along, my parents will take drastic measures that will make Sirius very unhappy, I know you won't resist." 

"You're lying," James said, but he wasn't certain. He didn't know Sirius's parents, and he didn't know Regulus. 

"Is that a chance you're willing to take?" 

James grit his teeth. "I can't just leave in the middle of the day with no warning. My family-" 

"Will be taken care of," Regulus said with a careless wave. "Stop wasting time. I've got one rather incensed brother to calm down before trying to sell your relationship to our parents." 

* * *

"I can't believe you ran away from me," Sirius said, months after the ball and weeks after they'd gotten married-- the marriage would've been sooner had it not been a royal wedding and not needed as much planning. 

James snorted, working out a tangle in Sirius's hair with his fingers. "Frankly, I don't know what else you expected." 

"Something other than utter rejection at the hands of my one true love. A kiss, perhaps? A responding declaration?" 

James kissed the top of his head. "Love you." 

Sirius tilted his head to glare at him. "It doesn't count _now_. You needed to do it back then." 

There was no magic that James had heard of that could turn back time, and even if there were, he could neither do it nor have access to it. So, in lieu of saying he would fix it or would've done differently (a lie), James gave him a kiss that made the scowl disappear from his husband's face. "I think it counts just enough, saying it right now." 

Sirius grumbled a bit, but it was for show as he relaxed against him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a prompt driven blog @[imaginejamesandsirius](https://imaginejamesandsirius.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Feel free to drop by!


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